


likes all our pretty songs (and he likes to sing along)

by moonbeamlex



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, and not be into grunge?, bev eddie and richie road trip to a nirvana show, eddie has anxiety though, falling in love in a car, nope - Freeform, thank you for your time, there's no sad shit at all, would be in high school in the 90s, you're telling me richie 'i love rock 'n' roll' tozier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 00:33:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21205742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbeamlex/pseuds/moonbeamlex
Summary: Everyone could tell just by looking at Richie what exactly he was about. The thing that usually shocked them was how much Eddie Kaspbrak loved rock ‘n’ roll too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> split up into two chapters, because i didn't want to figure out how to transition! at first i was gonna try and make timelines work and everything but it was hard so, timelines are probably fucked. that's okay though. it's fiction! it's also implied bill and bev are a thing, but like....so briefly it doesn't matter, really.

Richie Tozier loved rock ‘n’ roll. It was obvious in everything he did. It showed in the posters covering his walls, in the mix of vinyl and tapes and CDs strewn across his floor. It showed in the way he traded Hawaiin shirts for leather jackets and flannels. It showed in the way he kept a cigarette tucked behind his ear, even when he was sauntering through the hallways in school, reckless and indifferent to the detentions he was assigned for it. It showed in the way he let Bev come at him with an eyeliner pencil, doing his best to ignore his fear of getting stabbed in the eye. It showed in the way his nails were always coated in chipped black polish, always dragging over his bottom lip or shoving his glasses further up his nose.

He and Bev would walk through the hallway, Richie’s arm loosely around her shoulder, and people would stare. Grunge may have been taking the country by storm, but Derry wasn’t fond of change. Richie loved the attention. He had a feeling Bev did too, took pride in knowing she looked hotter than every other girl at the school, took pride in the way she could have Richie by her side one minute and be in Bill’s lap the next, a cigarette between her lips but not lit so she didn’t bother her boyfriend. Richie really did look up to Bev. 

Everyone could tell just by looking at Richie what exactly he was about. The thing that usually shocked them was how much Eddie Kaspbrak loved rock ‘n’ roll too. No one saw it coming. He didn’t dress like Richie and Bev, living the lifestyle of their idols and turning heads. He dressed...well, he dressed in the clothes his mom bought him and scowled when his friends commented on exactly how nerdy he looked. He could listen to New Kids on the Block and Boyz II Men with Ben, badly sang along to Michael Jackson and Mariah Carey with Stan and MIke, and didn’t mind the sappy love songs that Bill preferred. 

But he felt most comfortable, most at home with Richie and Bev and their music. Mostly Richie, honestly. Bev was fun, and Eddie loved spending time with her, but it was with Richie that the music felt the best. Richie had gotten a car, saved up enough money from his part time job at the Aladdin, and almost every night he wasn’t working he stopped to pick Eddie up to take him on a drive. 

He would park at the end of Eddie’s street, so Eddie’s mom couldn’t see the piece of shit car out the window, and smoke and wait for Eddie to sneak out his window and meet him. Sometimes Beverly would be in the front seat, already crawling over the console into the back by the time Eddie reached them, but most of the time it was just Eddie, Richie, music, and Derry. 

Nirvana, The Cure, The Smashing Pumpkins, and Red Hot Chili Peppers became the soundtrack to the best nights of Eddie’s life. His personal favorites were the Riot Grrrl tapes Bev had made for them, featuring a shit ton of bands he and Richie had never heard of before. He and Richie would drive for hours, sometimes stopping at a gas station so Richie could get another pack of cigarettes that Eddie would wrinkle his nose at, and so Eddie could stock up on junk food and sugar that his mom had banned him from.

It was on one of those late night drives that Richie had started rambling for about thirty minutes about how Kurt Cobain was bisexual, how Sid Vicious had been into dudes, did Eddie know that David Bowie and Mick Jagger had been a thing? That Iggy Pop and David Bowie had also been a thing? Had he heard about John Lennon and Paul McCartney? Okay, maybe that one wasn’t confirmed, but come on, Eds, just look at them. He had a whole list, like he had been researching. Janis Joplin, Pete Townshend, Freddie Mercury, Lou Reed. 

Eddie had listened carefully, nodding along every once in awhile, his thumb nail between his teeth. He didn’t want to speak up and ruin anything. He wanted to let Richie get this off his chest, whatever it was, even though it felt like the air was thick with…with something, something Eddie couldn’t really place. He didn't know about any of this. He wasn’t like Richie and Bev, who got homemade fan ‘zines all the way from Portland so they could keep up with the scene and the news and the gossip instead of just being invested in the music.

Richie had eventually trailed off, tapping his chipped nails against the steering wheel, before pulling the car over and parking on the side of the road. Eddie wrinkled his eyebrows, a little confused, starting to ask, “Richie, what are you--” but he was cut off. By Richie. By Richie leaning over the middle console and pressing their lips together. By Richie Tozier  _ kissing _ him. 

Eddie had gasped, opening his lips up to Richie, who had taken full advantage. It only took Eddie a few seconds to process what was going on, to get a hand tangled in Richie’s long and messy curls, to use the other hand to undo his seatbelt so he could press  _ closer _ . 

And that was that. 

Almost everything was exactly the same. Bev still joined them on drives sometimes, once or twice Bill even came along. Sometimes they would stop at a twenty-four hour diner and split an order of pancakes, sit on the same side of the booth and press their thighs together under the table. Once, Eddie tried a drag of Richie’s cigarette and ended up coughing for ten minutes straight while Richie alternated between laughing and rubbing his back in soothing circles. 

One night with Bev, they parked the car at the park and Eddie climbed into the backseat and let her paint his nails black to match Richie’s. Richie sat in the driver’s seat, head leaning back against the shoulder rest, watching them with a smile on his face as The Smiths played softly from the radio. Eddie had to scrub the polish off that night, alone in his room, so his mother didn’t see and throw a fit, but he had a smile on his face while he did it, remembering how Richie had looked him in the eye and crooned,  _ “To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die. _ ” 

Some things changed, though. The nights when Bev didn’t join them, Richie almost always ended the night parking the car somewhere quiet and dark so they could climb into the backseat. Richie didn’t mind going slow, didn’t mind the way Eddie sometimes flinched at the touch of Richie’s skin on his own, didn’t mind that sometimes Eddie really just wanted to lay his head on Richie’s chest and listen to his heartbeat. 

Through it all, the radio kept playing.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm not gonna edit this because that's not very punk rock. i finished it two minutes ago and now i'm posting it. i never saw nirvana live, because i was not yet born, but i've been to a shit ton of concerts and this is mostly based off my own experiences.

Richie got the idea on a Monday. Beverly had agreed by Tuesday, always willing to take risks and live her life the way she wanted. It was Eddie that dragged his feet, that took his time, that couldn’t commit. 

Nirvana was playing in Portland, and Richie had gotten tickets. It was a Friday night, they would ditch their last class and make the three hour drive. Richie’s parents didn’t give a fuck where he was at any given point, Bev was used to lying to her aunt to stay out overnight, and Eddie. Well. 

Richie’s idea was to tell Eddie’s mom he was staying with Stan. She liked Stan, really. Stan was the  _ only _ one of Eddie’s friends she liked. She thought the fact that he was an Eagle scout showed that he was an, “upstanding citizen, unlike that other trash you hang around, Eddie. They always look so  _ dirty _ , I just worry.” 

Eddie wanted to go. He wanted to go so  _ bad _ it ached in his chest. He wanted to hold Richie’s hand while they drove, wanted to toss Cheetos at Bev in the backseat when she teased them, wanted to go to his first ever concert and see Richie’s favorite band with him. The idea of lying to his mom wasn’t the problem. He did that all the time now, didn’t want to deal with her accusations and crying and rants about his friends. About Richie. About what they were to each other, about what they did together in the back seat of Richie’s car. It was just...easier, to keep her happy, to keep himself out of her line of fire. So, really, lying to his mom was something he was used to. 

The problem was how nervous the idea made him. He had been to Portland before, once when he was a kid and his mom had taken him to some specialist or other. He didn’t remember much of it, but he remembered how scared he had been. He didn’t think that fear should be lingering, he knew he wasn’t sick now. Knew that he was almost an adult, really, knew that he would be with two of his best friends. Knew that it would be fun and make Richie happy.

But it didn’t make the weird feeling in his chest and in his head go away. He had seen music videos on MTV, usually at Bev’s aunt’s house, when they were all over for movie nights and Richie had wrestled control of the remote away from Bill. He didn’t know how accurate it was to a real concert, but he had seen the  _ Smells Like Teen Spirit  _ video over ten times now and...well. It didn’t look  _ fun, _ was the other problem. It looked scary, with people sweaty and pressed together and shoving into each other. It looked a little bit like a nightmare. 

It also looked like something Richie would adore, and that was enough for Eddie to steel his nerves and agree to the trip. He told Richie on Thursday, wringing his hands together behind his back, but trying to keep his voice calm. Richie had whooped, loudly enough to draw attention their way, cupped Eddie’s cheeks and left a smacking kiss on his forehead. Eddie had blushed bright red, not used to the public affection, and watched as Richie ran off to find Beverly and tell her the good news, shouting in the hallways as he went, "It's Friday, I'm in love!" and getting more than a few odd stares.

(His mom had been so happy to hear that it was just going to be he and Stan at a sleepover. “You spend too much time with that Tozier boy, Eddie, you know his family  _ drink _ right?” Eddie hadn’t felt bad about lying to her at all. He felt worse for Stan, who would probably have to dodge a phone call from her at some point that night.) 

The next day, Richie was waiting for Eddie by his locker after sixth period. “Hey, Spaghetti,” he said, a huge grin on his face. “Bev’s already in the car, we blew off fifth too to smoke, didn’t wanna bother your delicate sensibilities,” he said, reaching out to pinch Eddie’s cheek. Eddie tried to control the way his hands were shaking, tried to ignore the way his mind was screaming at him, and put a smile on that he hoped matched his boyfriend’s as they made their way to the back door of the school. 

It was hardly ever monitored during school hours, they didn’t have the extra staff and hall monitors were a joke, but Eddie still felt like there was going to be something wrong. Someone would be waiting for them, had figured out their plan, his mom had been called and was waiting to ground him until college. Richie stopped to look at him, brow furrowed, as if he could tell something was wrong. He didn’t say anything, just studied Eddie’s face for a second, before reaching out to take his hand. 

It was still shaking. 

“Come on, Eds, we’ve got an adventure planned and it’s rude to keep a lady waiting,” Richie said, instead of pressing whatever it was that had made a flash of concern cross his gaze as he had looked at Eddie. 

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie muttered under his breath, even though Richie knew by now he didn’t really mind. Not when it was coming from Richie’s mouth, at least. He held onto Richie’s hand, tighter than he probably really needed to, but nothing happened on their way out of the school. No one stopped them, or even really looked at them twice. They made it to Richie’s car, where Bev had a window in the backseat rolled down and her legs sticking out of it as she spread across the bench seat, with no problem. 

“Hello, boys,” she called, refusing to sit up and properly acknowledge them. “Portland awaits.” 

The drive was fine. No, it was better than fine, it was fun. Richie had his entire center console full of tapes and Bev had brought some of her own as well, as if their trip would take days instead of a few hours. They sang along, loud and off key, not caring if they sounded good, only caring that they were having a good time. Richie reached out and took Eddie’s hand only thirty minutes into the trip and didn’t let go, even when Bev made obnoxious kissing noises from the back. Eddie flipped her off for the both of them, so Richie didn’t take his other hand off the steering wheel and kill them all. 

Bev laughed, throwing a jolly rancher at Richie’s head, which made Eddie retaliate by throwing a handful of M&Ms and Richie yelp about keeping his “precious baby whom I love more than Eddie and myself  _ combined _ ” clean. Eddie just raised an eyebrow at him, making Richie smile wide even as he kept his eyes on the road. 

Eddie had never felt more relaxed than he did in Richie’s car. Which, honestly, was terrible, because Richie wasn’t the best driver. He got distracted easily, he only kept one hand on the wheel, he took turns too fast and sometimes forgot the speed limit. If anyone else was driving the car, any other car, Eddie would have one hand gripping the handle above the passenger side door and the other on his inhaler. Just in case. 

But with Richie, it was different. It wasn’t until they actually got to Portland that Eddie started to feel like his chest was too tight, started to wonder if he had made a mistake. Bev had sat up from where she had been spread out over the backseat, hands on the back of Richie and Eddie’s seats as she looked out into the city streets. She and Richie were both clearly excited, clearly in their element, and Eddie felt...well, not left out. He knew that he was safe and with the people who loved him best, but like he was  _ ruining _ something by not being as excited as they were. 

He pressed himself back into the seat, felt Bev’s knuckles brush his shoulder, and tried to steady his breathing. It wasn’t like they were going to wander the city, lose themselves amongst the crowds. It wasn’t like Portland was even comparable to other cities, they could be in...in...New York or San Francisco or something. Portland was the small leagues, and if Eddie couldn’t even handle a concert in Portland, how would he ever get up the nerve to leave and go to college? To leave Derry behind for good? 

Richie kept stealing glances at him out of the corner of his eye, obviously trying to judge how he was feeling, how he was doing. Eddie tried his best to appear as calm as he had thirty minutes ago on some stretch of highway as Bev fumbled open a map with the venue circled. Richie’s hand, still holding Eddie’s, squeezed tight. Reassuring. A gesture that he was still here, wasn’t letting go.

Eddie couldn’t imagine doing this with, for, anyone else in the world. 

Bev’s directions were actually pretty terrible and it took them much longer to find the venue than they had been expecting. By the time they had found somewhere to park and had stumbled up to the doors, there was a line. A pretty long line, honestly, but Eddie didn’t know what he had been expecting. Nirvana was the big leagues. This was going to be a concert to remember. 

Richie and Bev smoked another cigarette while they were in line, making sure to blow the smoke away from Eddie as much as possible, but needing something to keep their hands from fidgeting with excitement and nerves. The people in front of them, older, probably in college, studied them a bit as they smoked. 

“How old are you?” one of them asked, a girl with dark blue hair and wire rimmed glasses. She didn’t sound rude, just curious, but Eddie felt himself tuck himself into Richie’s side anyway. Just in case. 

Bev was the one who answered, voice a bit defiant. “Old enough. Why?” she questioned back, leaning forward to rest her chin on Richie’s shoulder. Eddie wondered exactly what they looked like, to other people, to the college kids in front of them. Richie and Bev, they probably looked like they could fit in easily. Richie’s hair was getting long, long enough it curled and always looked messy, and Bev kept hers cut short. They stood like they belonged, leaned against brick walls with their cigarettes or casually hanging onto each other. Young, maybe, but already clearly part of the scene around them.

Eddie was wearing shorts and a polo, what he had been wearing at school, what his mom had nodded approvingly at as he walked out the door. He didn’t look like he fit at all. If it wasn’t for Richie’s arm around him, for Bev’s hand pressed against his back as she crowded behind them, he wondered if he would be laughed out of line. 

The girl didn’t laugh, though. She smiled, and nodded. “Fair enough,” was her only reply. Soon, she and her friends had introduced themselves, and were talking like they had known Eddie, Richie, and Bev forever. The girl with the blue hair was named Ash, and her girlfriend, Sara, towered over her in huge boots Eddie couldn’t imagine walking in without tripping. They also had another couple with them, a boy named Noah who had a cool nose piercing and a mohawk, and a girl wearing a cool dress named Maxine. None of them looked normal, and it was amazing to Eddie. Back in Derry, the four people in front of him would be harassed endlessly, just for looking the way they did. It didn’t seem to matter as much here. Most of the line looked like them, actually, like it was fine. The way they shared their relationships so openly, to people who should be strangers, in front of people who could want to hurt them...it made something in Eddie’s chest loosen. 

It made that voice inside Eddie that reminded him that he and Richie weren’t unnatural, weren’t wrong, were good and right each other a little bit louder. It made him feel like he and his friends weren’t losers, they just weren’t in a place they belonged back in Derry. It could be different, somewhere else, like in the line of a Nirvana concert in Portland. 

“This is Eddie Spaghetti’s first concert,” Richie boasted to the older crowd, snapping Eddie out of his head and tightening his hand around Eddie’s waist, as if it wasn’t his own as well. Well, maybe it wasn’t, really, it depended on what you counted as a concert. Richie swore up and down that shitty house parties in Derry with three teenagers all playing guitar counted, but Eddie didn’t think they’d be comparable. It was clear to Eddie what he was getting at, though. He had known something was up with Eddie since they had left school, had sensed his nerves and his anxiety. 

It seemed like the college kids knew what he was getting at as well. “We’ll make sure you have a good time,” Ash said to him, voice calm. Eddie didn’t know why he trusted her, but he did. Maybe it was the way Sara was leaning into her, slightly, as if she didn’t realize she was doing it at all. Or maybe it was just the fact that Eddie had gone most of his life without feeling like he could look up to or trust any adults, and he was jumping at the first opportunity, even if they were only a few years older than him. 

“They can be kinda intense,” Maxine ( _ “Please, call me Maxie” _ ) was explaining to them, sharing a cigarette with Noah. “People push and shove, but it’s not because they want to hurt you. It’s just how the music makes them feel, but if you wanna avoid it, we can help. Just stay in front of us, okay?” 

Eddie nodded along, trying to make sure his breaths were steady and his eyes weren’t too wide and his hands weren’t shaking as he heard Noah tell Richie about the time he got kicked in the back of the head by a crowd surfer, went down and hit his head on the barricade bar, resulting in a concussion and a cool ass hell story. Richie didn’t let go of Eddie as he threw his head back and laughed, and that was enough for Eddie to keep his calm. 

When the doors opened, the rush inside was enough to threaten the group they had created, but Ash reached back her hand to Eddie, an invitation. Eddie only hesitated a second before he took it, a link in a chain between them and their...new friends, maybe. It was too soon to tell, Eddie thought a bit nonsically, as Ash squeezed his hand in excitement and to make sure he didn’t slip away. 

The wait for the show to start was excruciating. You couldn’t smoke in the venue, but that didn’t mean that people weren’t passing cigarettes and...and probably joints, actually, discreetly through the crowd, acting like puffs of smoke above their heads didn’t exist. Richie and Bev both took a drag when someone passed something to them, no hesitation, which made Noah reach over Eddie to gently smack Richie in the back of the head and give them a small lecture about accepting drugs from strangers. 

Eddie was nervous. Anxious. It had been building all night, and deep breaths and the hold Richie had on his hand were the only things keeping him from losing his shit. The crowd was huge, hundreds of already sweaty bodies pressed into each other, too close for comfort and for strangers but seemingly not minding, and Eddie seemed to be smack in the middle of it all. Everyone around him was chatting idly, waiting, impatient and on bated breath for the overhead lights to go dark and the stage to turn bright.

When the music started, though, something shifted. Richie and Bev threw themselves into the music, into the crowd, Richie letting go of Eddie’s hand so he could shove himself closer, get lost in the moment. Eddie was alone, panicking, but only for a brief moment. Before he really had time to recognize what was going on, what he should do, what was  _ wrong _ , Maxine and Sara were in the spots on either side of him that Bev and Richie had just been in. Noah was still behind him, tall enough to see over him easily. None of them said anything to Eddie, too focused on the stage, but it was clear what they were doing.

Eddie was surrounded. He was safe. The racing of his heart slowed down, his breaths evened out, and he tried to stop himself from staring at the people around him and focus on the band on stage. Eddie liked Nirvana. It was hard not to, dating Richie. The other boy looked up to Kurt Cobain, worshipped him almost, and Eddie had been dragged into their music headfirst. 

And seeing them live. When he had a chance to get into it, to not worry about the fact that his friend had gone, it was like nothing Eddie had never seen or felt. He’d heard live recordings before, had normally written them off because the quality never seemed as good, but actually being in the venue as the band played…

It made the music feel different. The bass and the drums vibrated the room, vibrated his bones and his skin and his head. At one point, while the band was playing an extended guitar solo, Eddie couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh, letting out the energy that was bubbling inside him from the music. Ash noticed, from her spot nearby, and threw him a thumbs up, her smile wide, sweat dripping down her face, and Eddie flashed her a thumbs up back. 

When Kurt spoke, voice low and close to the microphone, the entire crowd hung on his every word. Eddie had never looked up to him the way Richie did, had never really gotten into musicians at all, but he couldn’t look away. When a song came on that he knew, knew  _ well _ , had memories of, memories of Richie and the car and late nights and standing outside in the middle of nowhere with the window down and the car turned on for the stereo and Richie shouting the words into the night sky, Eddie sang along. Shouted along. Let go, closed his eyes, let the music move through him and make him feel  _ something _ as he stood in the crowd full of people who were just as moved as he was. 

It was over too soon. The crowd was still buzzing, still high on the rush of the night and the music, even after the band had left and the lights came back on, signalling there wouldn’t be another encore. Richie and Bev found their way back, sweat soaked and holding hands, a light in their eyes that hadn’t been there before. 

Richie didn’t wait for them to leave the venue before he threw himself at Eddie and kissed him, hands holding onto either side of Eddie’s face. Eddie let himself melt into it, for a few seconds, before Richie was pulling away and wrapping an arm around his neck. They didn’t say anything to each other, just smiled, goofy and feeling the adrenaline from the night. 

“Did you have fun?” Eddie finally asked, as they followed the rush of the crowd to the merch booth. 

“Second best night of my life, Eds,” Richie said, shoving his glasses further up his nose, where they were threatening to fall off. The eyeliner Bev had applied for him earlier was messy and soaked across his skin, like he had been crying. Eddie thought it looked amazing, for something so disgusting. 

“What’s the first best night?” he asked, bumping shoulders with Richie as they shuffled in line. 

“The night you let me kiss you,” Richie said, matter of fact, not even looking at Eddie as he said it, standing on the tips of his toes to try and see the options at the table. Eddie didn’t say anything back, didn’t feel the need to, a warmth spreading through him. 

Once they had acquired t-shirts for Bev and Richie, and gotten the number to the (“absolutely shitty,” Sara had said with no small amount of pride) house that their new friends all shared so they could keep in touch, they made their way back to the car. 

It was still where they had left it, like nothing had happened in the time they’d been gone. Eddie didn’t really know if he had been expecting someone to steal it or for something to have  _ changed _ about it somehow, like he felt like maybe he had changed a little bit, but he crawled into the front seat when Richie unlocked the door anyway. 

They sang along to the first tape they played, still coming down from the concert, loud and wide awake. Richie drummed on the steering wheel, Bev writhed on the back seat with an invisible guitar, and Eddie sang as loud as he could. By the time the second tape clicked, signifying the end, Bev was asleep, the crash hitting her hard. Eddie couldn’t really blame her, his eyelids drooping himself. 

He stayed awake, though, leaning against the window, studying Richie. He had wiped at his face with a (probably dirty) napkin when they first got into the car, erasing the smudges of eyeliner on his cheeks. He still looked a mess, his hair ratty and his shirt actually torn a bit. There was a bruise forming on his cheek, but for once, that didn’t worry Eddie. It suited him, really, when the purple blooming was from getting too into a crowd, not from someone trying to cause him pain. 

“Richie?” he asked while a The Cure tape played softly, his voice low so as not to disturb or wake up Bev, but enough to get his boyfriend’s attention. 

“Yeah?” Richie asked back, voice barely a whisper, mingling with the lyrics,  _ whenever I’m alone with you _ , eyes glancing from the road to Eddie and back again. 

Eddie couldn’t imagine ever feeling as safe and happy as he did right now, in this car, with these people and this music and these memories. “I love you,” he said. 

Richie didn’t show much shock or surprise, didn’t really show much of anything. “I love you, too,” he said, after a few seconds, as the song was fading out, before the next one started. It sounded so loud, compared to the silence of the car. 

Eddie reached a hand out, holding it palm up, waiting for Richie to take one of his own hands off the steering wheel and lace their fingers together. When he did, their twined hands resting on the center console, Eddie leaned his head against the window and watched as the other cars passed them by.

When they got back to Derry, it was late, but not early enough to go home yet. Bev had kissed them both on the forehead, sleep still in her eyes, before sneaking off to go wake up Bill, not wanting to spend the rest of her night alone. Richie drove Eddie to his place, sure that his parents would either be fucked off or passed out, and they barely had to sneak into Richie’s room at all. 

They fell onto Richie’s (unmade, as usual, Richie  _ please _ ) bed, not bothering to do anything to get ready to sleep besides taking off their shoes, instead immediately curling into each others warmth. Eddie pressed his face into Richie’s chest, his shirt still sweaty and not bothering Eddie nearly as much as it should. Richie ran fingers over his back, up and down, sliding under his shirt to press against warm skin, leaving kisses in his hair as they lay in silence. 

It was the first time they were surrounded by silence all day. 

Richie couldn’t let that last, started to whisper to Eddie, about nothing and everything. The show, the drive, how much Eddie meant to him, and every once in awhile, reverently, “I love you.” 

Eddie smiled, closed his eyes, and let Richie’s voice, better than any music, lull him to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u want, come talk to me @ myhistoryread on tumblr 
> 
> this is dedicated to maddy, em, and sara. because i love them.


End file.
